


The set that's smart.

by ftwnhgn



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: (somehow), Affairs, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Getting Together, M/M, Making Out, Making Up, Post-Coital Cuddling, Pre-Relationship, catching feelings, commitment issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-26 23:32:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9929777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ftwnhgn/pseuds/ftwnhgn
Summary: Hanschen didn’t actually think Melchior would come around tonight, but then the other young man stood in front of his apartment door, a bottle of white wine and some take-out in hand, and, well, it’s better than spending the night on his own with Law and Order: SVU runs that are horrendously dubbed.Defining one's relationship is harder than one might think, especially if Hanschen Rilow is involved.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have zero chill. And this is seemingly the only fandom that gets me to write.
> 
> Basically, I listened to Anything Goes by Sutton Foster and then to the rendition of Frank Sinatra and I had to get this out of my system. There's a serious lack of ships, tap dancing and nightclub singers. But feelings and banter and Hanschen being scared of commitment.
> 
> As unbeta'd as ever. And I am still no native speaker, so I'm sorry for any errors.
> 
> Title: Anything Goes - Anything Goes (surprise, surprise)

_If driving fast cars you like, if low bars you like_  
_If old hymns you like, if bare limbs you like_  
_If Mae West you like, or me undressed you like_  
_Why, nobody will oppose!_  
\- Cole Porter

 

_***_

“Smoking can kill you,“ Hanschen says as he takes the cigarette out of Melchior’s hand and takes a drag from it himself, blowing the smoke towards the open window.

Their naked shoulders are touching and the sheets are somewhere around Hanschen’s hips, barely hiding his nudeness, while Melchior is lying with one leg on top of them in his underwear. It’s a fairly warm spring night – April, to be precise – and Hanschen didn’t actually think Melchior would come around tonight, but then the other young man stood in front of his apartment door, a bottle of white wine and some take-out in hand, and, well, it’s better than spending the night on his own with Law and Order: SVU runs that are horrendously dubbed.

So, it was only natural of him to lean across the couch and kiss Melchior after they killed half the bottle and there was a pleasant buzzing in his veins. Both knew exactly what would happen from then on and that Melchior was the one who proposed switching to Hanschen’s bedroom was a pleasant surprised.

Hanschen’s couch can be insanely uncomfortable, especially for the actions Hanschen and Melchior planned to induce in.

“Hmmm, having such a big mouth as well, Hans,” Melchior responses, taking his cigarette back and stubbing it out in the ashtray on Hanschen’s night stand.

Hanschen props himself up on one elbow, an eyebrow of his arched, but really just raking his eyes over Melchior’s very-well defined _naked_ body. “Speaking from experience, I guess?” he asks, bowing his head down and forward to press open-mouthed kisses into Melchior’s neck.

A heavy breath escapes Melchior and one of his hands fists into Hanschen’s hair, gripping at the blond strands with the amount of force that makes Hanschen feel hot all-over and like a fire is crackling in his stomach, small sparks moving up his chest. God, sometimes Melchior can be great.

“I’m still here, so I can’t say-“ he pauses and arches his spine up towards Hanschen. “Can’t say that I can speak from experience, as much as you’d like to think differently,” he huffs out between his teeth, breaking into a moan on the last two words of his sentence.

Hanschen gets a thrill out of this – out of knowing that he is the one who can crack Melchior’s perfect appearance just with the use of his lips – and how Melchior seamlessly surrenders to him, as much as he likes to decline it. They know that they both don’t have anyone else on the side and, somehow, it just makes this affair even more of an excitement. None of their friends would even think about them hitting it off, of course not, because they still think Hanschen or Melchior would rather eat nails than look at the other one with affection in their eyes. He’s also pretty sure that Ernst even prayed for him once to find true love, since their relationship hasn’t worked out that well in the long run.

Well, how short one falls to the prayers of the Lord, Hanschen muses, as Melchior’s hand unwinds from his hair to haul him upwards by the neck into a bruising kiss. Melchior might lack finesse but he makes up for it in passion and, really, Hanschen brings enough finesse and elegance for two to the table, so he’s not complaining when Melchior rolls on top of him.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Melchior whispers against his cheek before his hands busy themselves to roam over Hanschen’s body, just like they did a good hour ago. Just like he knows Hanschen loves it.

Find yourself a good atheist and all he will ever believe in is you, while the only thing he will ever worship is your body.

And Hanschen, he can’t complain. Instead he traces the hickeys he already left on Melchior’s neck and proceeds to suck another one high enough to be visible on the fine spring day that will grace the earth tomorrow.

“How do I explain that in the office?” Melchior says in a teasing tone, his arousal already bleeding out over his words, his hands under the covers, the pads of his fingers digging into Hanschen’s hips. He has the habit of leaving his marks in more delicate places than Hanschen.

Hanschen grins against his skin and licks around the purple bruise he just put there. “You’re smart. Make something up.” He scraps his nails up Melchior’s back, up to his broad shoulders – surprisingly he lost his skinnier form once he made it out of puberty and when Hanschen asked him a few months ago he said he didn’t work out but Hanschen knows it can only be a lie. Nobody is built like a fucking tank around their shoulders when they’re not hitting the gym – to keep him close. “Or just tell them you’re having an affair. I’m sure Moritz will fall out of his chair if he knows you’re undressing me in your free time.”

Melchior snorts – because he’s Melchior, after all, and some things _never_ change despite the things that obviously did – but kisses Hanschen again, sweeter this time. A softness is brought into the kiss that Hanschen has only ever experienced when Melchior lost himself around him, when he’s buried so deep into Hanschen and they’re so close that it’s not only sex and hormones binding them together, but something else as well.

Hanschen has been scared before to call it by its name, he wasn’t sure about his own emotions as well, but it’s a deep-running affection, unmistakably. It’s also there when Hanschen sees Melchior on the other side of his door on a Wednesday night, or when Melchior texts him about something that reminded him of Hanschen.

And it’s not going away, at least not soon.

“Or,” Melchior starts and breaks Hanschen’s train of thoughts with a breathtaking smile on his sharp features – he always reminded Hanschen of glass, how weird it may seem (in Hanschen’s head it made perfect sense at 15 and it still makes sense at 25) – “I’ll tell them I’m seeing someone.” Followed by a short kiss.

Hanschen feels a rush of anxiety run through him. The last time someone introduced him in that fashion ended with him sitting on his couch around two-thirty am on a Monday night and booking a two-week trip to the coast of South England to reinvent himself because he felt like the biggest pile of shit in Germany. Needlessly to say, the trip didn’t turn him into a new person, but he had a great time anyway, all with sending postcards to everyone _but Ernst_ about how amazing and definitely not insanely cold and windy England was in November.

Melchior got one as well. Why Hanschen can’t even recall anymore. Probably out of spite and to brag about how much more well-travelled and, therefore, smarter Hanschen is.

“Or, you can do that,” Hanschen says, his voice trembling despite the strength he channels into his words. Fuck it, _fuck him_ for catching feelings for Melchior Gabor, out of all people. Goddamnit.

Melchior looks down at him with a dumbly soft look and Hanschen feels like throwing up. Not that this would improve the image Melchior has of him in any way, but, apparently, that doesn’t matter anyway because Melchior wants to tell people he’s seeing Hanschen. Well, _someone_. But their friends are not that dumb that they can’t put one and two together, especially not the girls.

“I can,” Melchior repeats, but looking for Hanschen’s approval and Hanschen can’t help himself but bites his lip and then nod, his words nearly silent: “And you will.”

Melchior captures his lips in another kiss, another sweet one that rots Hanschen’s inside to hot honey. “Hans, anything is possible,” His hands are still on Hanschen’s hips and he’s still driving him wild. “So, why shouldn’t we be as well?”

Only Melchior Gabor could let such a cheesy line sound like the solution to a difficult math problem. Only Hanschen could still fall for something like that. And while he hasn’t planned on putting what they are into words, Melchior never had problems with throwing words around like they’re as light as the air they breathe.

“Well,” Hanschen wonders, putting one of his arms under his head. The motion brings Melchior to pause and sit up. “Couldn’t be so bad to let them know. Especially when there’s probably a betting pool on who of us will settle down first. We can just give them what they want and then,” Hanschen looks at Melchior, a hand still curled around his shoulder, and remembers that he’s a Rilow and Rilows do not back down from a challenge, least one called Melchior Gabor. “I can watch Moritz fall out of his chair.”

Melchior grins, all cocky and _yet_ so handsome. “So you’re in?” His fingers card through Hanschen’s messy hair again, one of his favourite past-times when they’re together. He can be domestically romantic for someone who wants to crush capitalism in his spare time.

Hanschen rolls his eyes, not addressing how Melchior certainly sensed his allergy to relationships and Putting A Label Onto Things.  Alas, things change and one adjusts to new circumstances the best he can, and luckily, that’s Hanschen’s forte. So, why not try? It would just confirm for the outside what’s already going on.

It doesn’t have to end in South England. As Melchior said: Today, _anything_ is possible.

“I’m _all_ in,” he answers.

 

**Author's Note:**

> as usual: thank you for reading. if you want, you can leave a comment or chat with me on tumblr (andreinbolkonsky) or twitter (xbigboysdontcry) where I keep the spring awakening and sadness vibes going.
> 
> friendly reminder: you are loved, you are enough and you will achieve great things. you are right just the way you are, a living and breathing thing. keep going.


End file.
